


Blue clouds in a grey sky

by Bill_Longbow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, BAMF Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Selkies, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 15:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14405244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bill_Longbow/pseuds/Bill_Longbow
Summary: Tony shuffled another little bit closer, close enough to be able to clearly see the man, but not crowding him. “My name is Tony, what's yours?” He waited a bit to see if the man could respond, but when he didn't he continued in the same gentle tone. “Hydra are gone, the vampires are gone, you can leave if you want.”





	Blue clouds in a grey sky

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the wonderful Alex, who's original selkie fic inspired this. Happy birthday to you!
> 
> Thank you to [Delphyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphyn/pseuds/Delphyn) for cheerreading!

Natasha signalled a halt, so Tony stopped, back pressed against the wall, his firearm held in two hands pointed upwards. He strained his ears, but couldn’t hear anything apart from his own breathing and a steady drip, drip, drip from one of the leaking pipes overhead. This was the third Hydra base they were raiding since early this morning, the second for his party, but sadly it had already been abandoned. They had hoped to shock and overwhelm them fast enough to prevent word from getting out, but apparently the serpent had eyes and ears they didn’t know about. He hoped Steve, Sam and Bruce were having more luck in their next base than they were having.

After a moment Natasha signalled the go ahead, and Tony shuffled cautiously after her, Thor following silently behind them. They rounded a corner and suddenly Tony could hear what had set Natasha off. Something was down here. It was faint, but Tony could clearly make out rasped breathing. He clicked the gun off the safety, and waited for Natasha to go ahead. She was the scout of their little outfit. Fast on her feet and very attentive of her surroundings. He was the tech guy, and Thor the heavy hitter. They worked well together, they had breezed through the first base, and managed to kill a lot of the blood suckers, trapping a few for questioning later. This wasn’t their first rodeo by a long shot, they had been together, the eight of them, for years now. So Tony knew he could trust Natasha to scout ahead and not dive into danger head first.

She darted ahead but suddenly stood still in front of a large metal door. She put her ear against it for a time, before standing back and holstering her gun. Tony and Thor came up and together they looked for a way to open the door. Tony took out his phone and dived into the program he had used to hack into the base’s system. It took a little doing, but he got the door to click off the lock and it fell open slightly ajar. A whimpering came from the room, and Tony stepped in carefully, gun at the ready again. What he saw when he entered chilled his blood and made him want to kill every hydra follower ten times over.

The room was dark, the only light came from the hallway, and in the far corner a creature sat. As soon as the door opened it tried to shy away even further, whispering “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” When Tony came closer he saw it was actually a man, who was naked, except for some sort of loin cloth. He was filthy, the stench hit Tony like a brick when he stepped further into the room, no, cell, this was a prison. The man sat huddled as small as possible, head against his legs and his arms curled protectively around himself. The man seemed malnourished, his long arms were far too bony, and welts and bite marks were clearly visible over all the exposed body parts.

Tony crouched and inched a little bit closer, not wanting to spook the man. “Hi,” he started simply. They had no idea what this man had suffered through, they had found similar cases in previous Hydra hideouts, some of them had retreated so far into their head from all the horrors that you couldn't communicate with them anymore. The man hunched even more, so at least he was aware of Tony.

Tony shuffled another little bit closer, close enough to be able to clearly see the man, but not crowding him. “My name is Tony, what's yours?” He waited a bit to see if the man could respond, but when he didn't he continued in the same gentle tone. “Hydra are gone, the vampires are gone, you can leave if you want.” He hoped the man would come with them. Some of those they rescued refused to budge from their spot, too afraid it was a trap and they would be punished. They had to sedate those, but it was a last resort. Behind him in the hall he could hear Nat give the all clear to Clint and Loki, telling them to go assist Steve's team. They were on standby for both teams, should they run into a large opposition or find many prisoners.

The man seemed like he hadn't heard, but he didn't shuffle away either, which Tony took as a good sign. “Behind me are Natasha and Thor, yeah I know, don't know what his parents were thinking either, but he's a good guy. We're here to help you. I want you look at me, can you do that please?”

Slowly the man turned his head so he could peek with one eye through the curtain of dirty hair. Tony beamed at him. “There you are, well done you.” He waved with his fingers. “Hi, I'm Tony,” he smiled again. “Do you have a name?” The man didn't react, just looked at him, and Tony sat down properly, this could take a while. He was the designated prisoner whisperer of their little team, and he never minded to take his time, though he saw Nat making a hurry up gesture at him. She was whispering urgently in her com, it seemed the others had run into trouble.

Tony turned back to the man, who was observing him curiously, but with caution, still huddled against the wall. “I'm sorry, but it seems we have to go, my friends need help, and you can’t stay here, it’s not safe.” He waited a bit to see if his message came through, he thought it did, judging by the way the man frowned a bit. In the hallway Nat was cursing in Russian, a clear sign that time was up.

Tony held out his hand, very slowly, and was pleased the man only cringed a bit at the start of the movement. “Can you stand for me, do you think? Or do you need help?” He held his hand steady, as he saw the man think about this. Slowly, very slowly, the man reached out his hand and laid it in Tony’s open palm. Tony smiled brightly at him, projecting as little of the urgency he felt as possible. “You’re doing awesome, go you. Now, I’m going to stand, and then I’ll help you up, okay?” Again, very slowly, he stood and waited for the man to move. The man tried to get up, but just a hand wasn’t support enough, so Tony bend down and held his other hand under the man’s arm. He managed to raise him, but the man was larger than he had thought, larger than him, and he nearly buckled under his weight, as skinny as the man was. The movement obviously hurt him, and one of the wounds on his arm opened and started bleeding again. Tony helped him shuffle towards the door, mumbling reassurances and praise all the way. The man halted on the threshold, eying Natasha and Thor wearily. “These are my friends, they’re going to help us. Look, Thor has a blanket for you.” The big man came over and gently laid the blanket over the man’s shoulders. They had started carrying along basic stuff like this, to comfort the prisoners they encountered.

Slow, much too slow for Tony’s taste, they made their way back through the warren of hallways and back into the light. The man shied away from it, blinking furiously, his eyes watering, and Tony wondered how long they had locked him away in the dark. It was a wonder he hadn’t lost his mind, like so many others they had found.

Nat was already in their van and had parked it closer to the entrance, motor running. Thor opened the doors at the back, and together they helped the man step in. Tony buckled him in his seat and held his hand while he sat next to him. Nat accelerated quickly, and speeded towards where their friends were. The man scrunched his face in discomfort as soon as they started to move, he probably wasn’t used to driving anymore, but Tony started to worry as the man groaned and doubled over his knees. He squeezed Tony’s hand to the point where it was painful, and Tony had no clue what was wrong, how he could help. So he stroked the man’s back gently, murmuring sweet nothings, but the groans only increased. Suddenly the man sat up and began to howl, tears streaming down his face, and he clawed at his belt. Thor was at their side in no time, pulling up the blanket that had dropped, but the man only yelled harder, as he tried to get out of his seat. Tony shook his head at Thor and his friend went over their supply to fetch a tranquiliser shot. Goosebumps shot over Tony’s torso as the man kept howling in pain, his voice hoarse with screaming. Without preamble Thor stuck the needle into the man’s thigh, and within seconds he was silent, slumped to the side. Tony moved him so he leaned with his back against the seat, and noted the time of the shot.

  
  


Once they got to their friends, their battle was over. None of his friends was badly wounded, and they had even managed to capture a few of the vampires. They were in good spirits, and Tony breathed a sigh of relief. It was always a gamble how they would get out of these things. Or what they got out, he thought, as he sat next to the bed where they had put the mysterious man in, once they were back at HQ. He should’ve awoken by now. The tranquilizer only worked for a couple of hours, and that was counting in his malnourished state. Bruce had bandaged him and put the man on a drip, but said he wouldn’t do anything more without his express consent. He had been asleep for almost 30 hours now, and he didn’t show any sign of waking up soon. Tony had taken to visiting the man, and talk a bit to him. He had heard it could help coma patients, so maybe it helped him too. He put his feet on the edge of the bed, sat back, and read aloud from _20.000 leagues below the sea._

 

After a week there still was no change in the man’s condition, and it bothered Tony. The man had been incredibly brave, coming with them like that, and it felt like they were letting him down. He had resolved to search for clues at the place where they had found him, and he had found Steve willing to come with him for back up. They hadn’t had time to torch the place, and they were lucky Hydra hadn’t moved back in. It was only a matter of time, cut off one head, and all that jazz. The bloodsuckers multiplied faster than they could exterminate them.

Together they searched the warren of corridors, alcoves and rooms. Tony didn’t see anything he hadn’t on their first run through, until Steve came upon a chord leading from the ceiling at the far end of one of the corridors. It was attached to a trap door, and with the ladder that came sliding out they could climb into the attic. There was only one door, which was locked, but Steve picked it without problem. At the count of three Steve opened it, while Tony held his gun ready.

There was nothing. Only old furniture and knick knacks. Old paintings stood in rows against the walls. Tony even saw a crib, and shuddered at the sight of something that pure in a place of horrors like this.

Steve put a warm hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Sorry Tony, I know you hoped to find something.” Tony wasn’t ready to give up yet, so he took a few steps into the room. Why lock a room guarding only garbage? He spied around. The dust lay thick on everything. Not everything, in the corner two plastic bags lay haphazardly, like they were thrown into the room. Tony made his way over and carefully pried open one of the bags. They were filled with fur coats. He pulled one out and saw it wasn’t a coat, but a pelt. His blood ran cold. “Steve? We have to hurry back.”

 

They heard the yelling coming from the medical wing even before they entered the door. Tony raced through the hallway with a bag in his arms, Steve following rapidly behind him with the other. As he had feared the commotion was coming from the mystery man’s room, and they hurried to enter. They had tied the man to the bed after the way he had fought in the van, and he was straining against them on the bed. “Stop,” Tony tried, but the man didn’t listen and continued to thrash against the bonds, which were cutting in his wrists.

In desperation Tony threw the contents of his bag over the bed and the effect was instant. As soon as the pelts were on the bed the man stilled and relaxed. It took a moment for him to come back to himself, blinking awkwardly, and trying to reach with his hand, almost as if he had forgotten about the restraints. His eyes fell on Tony and he frowned, trying to reach out again.

Tony took a step forward and smiled at the man. “Hi, remember me?”

The man’s only reaction was a deepening of his frown, so Tony continued. “I was there when we took you away from… from that bad place, but I guess we forgot part of you, huh?” He nodded at the pelts. He couldn’t bare the thought of all the other selkies that were without their skin. Some of these pelts looked old too. The man smiled gratefully at him. “Yeah,” he croaked, and coughed. Bruce, who had stood at the ready with another tranquiliser, quickly gave the man a sip to drink.

“Can we let you go, you think? Or will you fight us again?” Tony winked to show he made a joke, and went to untie the restraints on his side of the bed, after a nod of assent from Bruce, who untied the other arm. Steve quietly put his bag down and stepped out of the room, now that is was clear the man didn’t pose a danger anymore.

When his arms were free the man bent over the furs in his lap and stroked them reverently, tears rolling over his cheeks. “I remember them all,” he whispered, and Tony shivered where he stood.

“Do you… do you need some time alone?” he asked. It was clear the man was mourning, and he deserved the space to do so, but he shook his head. He pulled a beautiful light grey pelt from the heap. “This one’s mine… It’s been so long…” He burst out crying for real now. He covered his face with his hands while his body shook with the sobs. Tony felt his own eyes moisten, and stepped closer to put a hand on the man’s shoulder. As soon as he felt Tony he turned and buried his face in Tony’s sweater, clutching him for dear life. Tony put his arms around the man and gently rocked him to and fro, until finally the sobbing stopped. He held him, still, after that, and only let go when the man did. Tony winced at the pins and needles that erupted in one of his feet from standing still so long, but he turned it into a gentle smile for the man. 

“I think we should try and put some food into you. We’re quite a way from the coast, should you want to go back, so eating first is a good idea.”

The man nodded tiredly.

“Shall I bring it here, or do you want to come with?” It was standard procedure to give the recuperating prisoners choices in small quantities, as they had been denied their free will for so long. It was a fine line, too much choice could easily overwhelm them, too little and they weren't much better off than they were before.

The man seemed unsure, picking at the edge of his fur with one hand.

“You know what, I'm hungry too, let me scrounge something up for us and we can eat it here, that sound good, sugar?”

The man gave him a grateful nod and Tony went to off in search of food.

 

When he came back with a tray full of different foods the man was up and out of bed, wearing a bathrobe that was too short for his long legs. He was neatly folding the pelts and putting them on a pile at the end of his bed.

“Knock, knock, room service,” Tony announced himself. He put the tray on the little table and stood back, letting the man decide where he would sit. He finished folding the last pelt and climbed back into the bed, and Tony noticed he had spread his own pelt out like a blanket on which he sat. Tony brought a plate and some of the bowls over to the table attached to the bed and the man carefully ate, picking up pieces and sniffing them before tasting.

Tony let him for a bit, it was nice to see him relaxed for a change, and dug into his tuna sandwich.

“You remember your name?” he asked after a while.

The man froze mid-chew, then ate while looking thoughtful. “Bucky,” he said at last, with a tiny smile, “my name is Bucky.”

Tony smiled back, this was big. “Nice to meet you, Bucky. Don't know if you remember, my name's Tony.” He held out his hand and Bucky looked puzzled before tentatively reaching out and shaking it, his smile growing wider.

They got back to eating in silence. It was a delight watching Bucky choosing something and tasting it. Some things he clearly liked, others were pushed away immediately. The man was probably hungry, but Tony didn't bring too much, his stomach needed time to adjust.

When they were done eating Tony handed Bucky some water and sat down again, mulling over what he should discuss first.

“Bucky? Do you know where the others are?”

The man was silent for a long time, staring at the ceiling and obviously fighting to keep back his tears. Finally he shook his head, an angry little shake, as he looked down and stroked his pelt. “They're gone,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, “I'm the last.”

Tony let out a sigh he didn't know he had held. He was sad for Bucky and his fellow selkies, but also relieved they hadn't inadvertently brought more suffering to these creatures by moving their pelts. He resisted the urge to ask if Bucky was sure. He had lost his battle against the tears, and looked so _broken_ , Tony decided to let it lie for now and scooted forward to hold out his hand. Bucky clasped it, grip surprisingly strong for his malnourished state, while he kept stroking the fur with his other.

“I'm sorry for your loss,” Tony whispered at which Bucky nodded and wiped his cheeks. “I don't want to go back,” he admitted quietly, “there's no one left.”

Tony had nothing to say to that, other than squeeze Bucky's hand, giving him what little comfort he could.

After a while Bucky let go and moved to the foot of his bed, to kneel next to the neat pile of furs. There were seven pelts left. Seven loved ones Bucky had to say goodbye to in the most horrible of ways. He lovingly stroked the top one, lost in thought. Tony felt like an interloper, he cleared his throat, intent to leave, but Bucky spoke before he could say so.

“We should bury these, at sea. They deserve that.” He didn't look up from where he was caressing the fur.

“We can do that. I can come with you, if you want?” Tony was silent for a moment, as he realised he didn't know anything about selkie customs. “Do we need to prepare? What do you need?”

Bucky looked up and gave him a wan smile. “We need to dig a grave.”

  
  


It turned out to be more complicated than that. Bucky's clan originally hailed from Scotland, but had travelled with adventurers to the new land, and had settled on Nova Scotia. It made Tony wonder how old Bucky was exactly, but when he asked Bucky had only shrugged and told him he didn't know. They needed a special permit for the burial at the spot Bucky had chosen, and it took _months_ to get all the paperwork in order.

The lack of progress frustrated Tony to no end, there was a reason why he didn't do the pencil pushing of their operation, but it did mean he got to spend a lot of time with Bucky, accompanying him to all the different offices and organisations he had to visit in order to be recognised as a person _and_ a selkie.

Bucky turned out to be wonderful. Hidden under all the trauma was a funny, sharp and kind man, and Tony was infinitely enamoured by him. The Avengers were only a way station, everyone saved was encouraged to leave for different destinations, preferably to their loved ones if they still had them, some had to move to special care homes for the severely traumatised. But Bucky had to wait for the papers before he could move on, and soon he started to help with the care of other rescued prisoners, making them as comfortable as possible, helping them adjust to life again, encouraging them. He felt more and more like a member of their team, and Tony would be sad to see him go.

  
  


When the day of the burial finally came, they set out with four. Steve and Bucky had hit it off like a house on fire, and Steve had been insistent he wanted to go too. When they got down to the garage Natasha was already in the car behind the wheel, effectively ending the discussion if she should come too.

It was a sixteen hour drive, and they stopped somewhere in Main for the night, sharing a family motel room. As they set out the next morning Bucky was adamant that he would rather swim back than spend another night with Steve 'chainsaw' Rogers. Natasha looked as fresh and unperturbed as ever.

They reached the burial site without incident. The Canadian government had been so generous as to already have the grave carved into the rock for them, they only had to leave the pelts. Bucky had made a simple wooden box for them, and he silently put it in the grave. As he stepped back he grabbed Tony's hand tight, tears streaming freely over his cheeks when he started to sing.

Tony didn't recognise the language, but the meaning was clear. It was about love, longing, and loss. The melody simple, but it moved Tony deeply, and when he glanced to the side he saw not even Natasha remained unaffected. When the song ended they stood in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, until Tony started to shiver violently in the harsh wind and Bucky quickly hugged him sideways and steered them back to the car.

 

They spent the night on Nova Scotia, in a small bed and breakfast, sharing two rooms. After dinner and a few drinks Tony and Bucky made ready for bed. Tony felt heavy and sad. He watched as Bucky pulled out his pelt from his bag, he never went anywhere without it anymore, and spread it out on his mattress again. He looked tense, shoulders hunched and movements terse. Tony longed to touch him, to smooth away the frown from his brow.

And why the hell not, he had nothing to lose if Bucky left anyway. He stopped rifling through his bag in search for his toothbrush and took the two steps that separated their beds. Bucky turned around when he put a hand on his shoulder, his eyes large and dark in the small glow of the little bed light.

“Stay?” Tony pleaded, and to his relief Bucky nodded, and smiled, and then closed the distance between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://bill-longbow.tumblr.com) or join us on the [ Stuckony discord server ](https://discord.gg/jtXcc3n) for all things Tony, Bucky and Steve!


End file.
